


Stuffed Like a Fragging Turkey

by Wrenchit



Series: Literal Treason [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Biting, Cunnilingus, Giant terrifying prehensile tongue action, Humanized Valves, Idiots in Love, Large Insertion, M/M, PIV Sex, Secret Relationship, Sex injuries (mentioned), Sticky Sex, Tooth gap fetish, Written Accent Blitzwing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 16:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19009252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenchit/pseuds/Wrenchit
Summary: A Sequel to Triple Cog Dare YouOn this Episode of Morons Who Fuck, it’s time for… FULL-ON PENETRATION feat. Unhealthy relationships with your boss.





	Stuffed Like a Fragging Turkey

It was late in the day; the light of the yellow Earth sun flared through a large crack in the Decepticon mine base. They really needed to seal that up before it ended up giving away their position. Starscream would have been a perfect candidate for the job, but… slagging Starsceam.

Blitzwing sat in the sliver of light, doing his best to maintain the lotus position as he meditated. Being a triple-changer had a lot of nonsense involved with it, including a very limited tolerance to sitting still alone with one’s thoughts. Still, he had managed to stay in his calmest, iciest, mode for a decent amount of time this go around. Things were going pretty well.

𝘉𝘻𝘻 𝘣𝘻𝘻𝘵 𝘣𝘻𝘻𝘵!

Nevermind. Blitzwing’s head swiveled, snapping to his raging personality. He growled, his body crumpling out of position. He threw himself onto the stone floor, his helm crashing against the rock violently. After a very brief temper tantrum, he regained control and allowed himself to check his internal network to see what had caused the disturbance.

3 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 01000010 01110101 01100111

Of course. He should have known. He glanced over the message previews.

𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘵. <3 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦.   
(𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭… 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 >:𝘗)

There was a photo attachment. Knowing Bumblebee, it could have been anything. Blitzwing made sure he was alone in the room before opening it. He was rarely disturbed when he tried to meditate; there wasn’t any real sense of camaraderie within the Decepticons- Megatron preferred subjugation- so it wasn’t rare to go without seeing the rest of his group for days at a time if there wasn’t a mission to be completed. 

Finding himself very much not being watched, Blitzwing tapped the message icon to open it. Even if it wasn’t twenty different kinds of treason for him to be in relations with an Autobot, being cautious was a good move, because his face lit up bright blue the moment his optics hit the image.

Bumblebee was on his berth, lidded optics gazing lustily down into the camera, a cheeky, self-satisfied grin plastered onto his face. There was lube smeared across his chin, shining dully in the florescent light of his room. The focal point of the picture, however, was between his spread thighs- Blitzwing noticed that they had the black stripes that he’d been promising for over a lunar cycle now. Lodged halfway into his wet valve was an engine block, the same one Blitzwing had given him to practice with. Bee’s lips were stretched tight, hugging the protruding hunk of metal, anterior node lit up like a Christmas tree. 

Blitzwing’s head was spinning. He had to reply.

𝘖𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘩~ 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴! ;)  
𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘉𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘌𝘙 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘔𝘗 𝘖𝘜𝘛 𝘉𝘜𝘎  
𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

The sun was setting; his sliver of light had begun to shift towards the far wall. He could probably start heading out soon. If he was lucky, Megatron would be busy plotting with Shockwave and wouldn’t bother to ask where he was going. Halfway down the stone corridor, the lights flickered momentarily. Click. Blitzwing’s pitch black face cackled at his good fortune. Power surges meant that Shockwave was calling, or Megatron had his little pet in the glass cage hard at work reverse engineering the spacebridge. Blitzwing strode into the hub of the base, still chuckling to himself.

“…any form of defiance before it becomes a problem-Ah, greetings, Blitzwing. It’s been cycles.”

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬. Blitzwing stood at attention. “Hallo, Shockwave. I assume you are vell?”

Megatron turned to look at him, face half-bathed in the blue glow of the monitor welded into the rock wall. His optics narrowed, red slits that cut like lasers. “Lord Megatron,” Blitzwing added. 

“Blitzwing.” Megatron droned. “Shockwave and I were just discussing something, and I think your input would be quite valuable.” 

Blitzwing swallowed thickly. “Of course, Lord Megatron.”

“Recently, I’ve been noticing a subordinate of mine participating in rather strange habits-“ Megatron took a step towards him. “-disappearing for cycles at a time, being on complete radio silence while they are absent, and coming back to me without any sense of humility or shame for what they’ve done.”

Blitzwing shoulders stiffened. “If you are referring to Starscream, I could certainly-“

“No, Blitzwing, I am referring to you.”

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘨.

Megatron stalked towards Blitzwing. 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬-𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬-𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 went his head, not knowing how to react to this situation; maybe this was why he had a tic in the first place. “Tell me, have you been consorting with the enemy?” Megatron was looming over him now, a whole head taller and optics on fire. “No, allow me to be as clear as possible- have you been fragging an Autobot, thinking that I, the leader of the Decepticons, wouldn’t notice you coming back to me reeking of betrayal?” 

Blitzwing was frozen, optic as wide as his crosshair piece, jaw tight enough to creak. Megatron circled like a shark. 

“Who is it, Blitzwing? The shovel-mouthed lug? He’s about the only one who could handle your brute strength, your rage.” Claw-like digits scraped down his chest plate. 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬-𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬-𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬. Anger. Humiliation. Fear fear fear. 

“Or maybe the two-wheeler? Do you like corrupting celibates, triple-changer? The taste of forbidden fruit…” Talons ticked against the laser cannon on Blitzwing’s left shoulder. Megatron licked his lips. Suddenly, an iron clasp around the thick pipe, crushing pressure only held back just enough to leave little more than a series of punctures. The servo was instantly folded behind Megatron’s back, as if he’d never moved. Blitzwing stood still, though the pain radiated hot through his shoulder. “Pervert,” Megatron spat at him. “You truly are Arachnia’s most twisted creation.” 

𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘊𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘒

In the background stood Sumdac, not sure what to do with himself. “Should I cover my eyes for this?” He piped up, voice hoarse and shaky. “I’d leave the room, but I’m in a, well-“

Megatron’s arm slashed through the air, a pointed digit silencing their prisoner without taking his optics off of the lamb in his lion’s den.

“Quiet Sumdac, Mommy and Daddy are talking.”

“Lord Megatron.” 

Shockwave was still on the screen, waiting patiently for his master to finish. “Forgive me, but if I’m to finish my report, I am a bit short on time.”

“I’m nearly done addressing this scrapheap before me, Shockwave. Just a moment.” A steely claw ran down the side of Blitzwing’s face, making a thin screech as it went. Megatron leaned in close, exhaust from his mouth fogging the red glass in Blitzwing’s goggles. “Do what you want with your little Autobot toy for now, you wreck. Just remember that the Autobots didn’t take kindly to malfunctions like you at the start of the war, and I doubt they’re going to start now.” Their helms touched, Blitzwing unable to escape the hellish light engulfing his vision. 

“If I see you showing any sign of weakness when we face them again, I will run your lover through with my bare servos.” Megatron ran his thumb over his prey’s lower lip, savoring the subtle quiver he felt there despite the icy mask on display.

“And I will know which one to do it to, I promise you that.”

Megatron released him, walking back towards the screen as if nothing had happened. Only Sumdac really seemed to be outwardly shaken by the experience.

“Dismissed. Have a lovely evening, Blitzwing.”

Blitzwing left quickly, before Megatron could change his mind. Once outside, his head didn’t so much spin as it did explode rotationally. 

Random screamed with laughter. Really? Bulkhead, Megatron? After he’d carved that beautiful stone statue of him in memory of his rule after his assumed death? Really?

“As if!” He cackled, shooting into the twilight sky.

Meanwhile, at the Autobot base, Sari was showing the crew her new favorite movie.

“…And they say they’re going to make a whole bunch of movies about all the other Marvel characters and make a massive cinematic universe! I’m so excited!”

“You really think that’s gonna happen?”

Sari pouted through a mouthful of popcorn. “Bulkhead, it’s 2008. I think we’ve advanced enough as a people to plan out twenty-something movies that are all about grown men running around with their underwear on the outside.”

Optimus eyed the screen warily. “So it’s a human… who climbs into a robot and uses them to fight?”

“I guess, if you want to think about it like that.”

Prowl folded his servos together. “That seems… uncouth.”

The computer blipped. Optimus got up to take a look at what had been picked up. The keyboard clacked as he adjusted some of the inputs. Bumblebee rubbed at his thigh absentmindedly, knowing exactly what had registered on the tracking system.

“Looks like one of the Decepticons is out and about. Solo mission. Those have been happening a lot more frequently as of late. Wonder what that’s all about.”

Back on the couch, Bee blushed. Prowl’s helm went into his servos.

Optimus read the readout on his screen. “Flyer… crooked flight pattern tells me it might be the triple-changer.”

Prowl groaned. Bulkhead coughed, optics glued to the television.

Ratchet turned to lean an arm against the back of the couch. “So, what exactly do we know about this one? It’s the crazy one, right?”

Bumblebee mumbled under his breath, starting to feel a little peeved. “I mean, crazy is a really generalized term-”

“Screwy as a hexagonal bolt.”

“Ratchet, you’re a medical professional, have a little compassion-”

“Saw him fall out of the sky transformed into a tank last week, the fragger.”

“… It was only twice.”

“Well, apparently he put a hit out on me last year, and that’s how the whole Lockdown incident happened.” Optimus typed a query into the computer. “He was going to buy me with a rocket punch.” 

“I’d sell you to Unicron for one corn chip.” Bumblebee muttered, sinking a bit into the cushions. Next to him, Prowl heaved.

“Please, no food talk, I’m already nauseous.”

Bumblebee jumped over the back of the couch, jogging over to the console.

“Hey, Boss-Bot, you want me to tail him? Y’know, make sure he isn’t up to anything falling under the incredibly subjective realm of evil-doing?” In the background, Prowl let out a sob.

“Good idea, Bumblebee.” Optimus glanced at the screen, tracking the little dot making its way towards Detroit. “Looks like he’s heading for the warehouse district on the other side of town. Search the buildings, they may be hiding something.”

Bee grinned. “That’ll probably take a while. I’ll try to be quick. No promises, though.” You could practically hear the wink in his voice. He turned to his friends, waving with an entire arm. “I guess I’ll see you guys later! Don’t stay up too late now!”

Sari flopped over the back of the couch. “Have fun with your booooooyfrieeeeend~!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Bee called over his shoulder, already running out the door. The crew could hear him transform and zoom out of earshot. Everyone sat back down, settling back into the movie.

Prowl ground his dental plates, grumbling under his breath. “He is so unbelievably obvious, and it makes me so angry.”

“Optimus being interface-repulsed helps a lot, I think.” Bulkhead mumbled, standing up to get another can of oil.

Bumblebee cruised down the gravel road leading to the warehouse lot, the last of the sun dying on the horizon. He transformed, walking towards warehouse unit 2. 2 for B, he thought, as he lifted the garage door. Padding in softly, he headed towards the back of the building, where they usually ended up. Absentmindedly, he rolled down one of the windows on his chassis and reached inside.

As their relationship had progressed, Bumblebee and Blitzwing had done quite a bit of experimenting, which more often than not ended up with one of them having to go get a patch job. Ratchet had been given a firsthand look at what channeling one’s ice and fire ammo through their digits during fingering did to the average minibot valve array. It had taken some creative lying to explain that one, and Bee was still banned from handling the welding gun. There had also been the time Blitzwing had had to reattach his tongue after Bumblebee had gotten a little too pointed with his banter while getting eaten out and caused him to switch personalities. That one had hurt. And the time Blitzwing bit down a little too hard on Bee’s spike trying to fulfill his bizarre need for tooth gap action.

They weren’t very good at being safe or sane about their consensual acts, but they were trying, slag it! Their effort was shown in the back room, where the magic happened, so to speak. What had once been a large break room and/or cafeteria with a sunken floor, had been transformed into the ultimate cuddle puddle; from wall to wall the room was filled with pillows and blankets of all types. They’d actually found the warehouse like this, one night while scouting for a more comfortable place to fool around than the woods in the park. So, maybe not so much effort being shown here, actually. At least, not their own.

Bumblebee threw himself into a hill of cushions, bouncing softly as he landed. Blitzwing would be here soon, and he could hardly wait. He’d waited almost a month for this night.

Outside, Blitzwing landed, looking around. Deserted. Excellent. He crouched, entering the warehouse. As he walked towards the back, he thought about all the ways Bumblebee could potentially make this a spectacle. It was a bit of a habit with him; nothing could just be memorable on it’s own, he had to make it that way with something flashy. Blitzwing didn’t mind it- honestly, the way he tried so very hard was rather endearing, if a bit misguided. 

Bumblebee reclined on the mass of pillows, wearing a flower crown made out of the vast collection of presents Blitzwing had sent him over the months. Roses, carnations, daisies, a little lavender… Primus, Bee was such a basic bitch.

Blitzwing climbed into the sea of pillows and waded towards Bee. Bumblebee’s lids fluttered, and Blitzwing touched a servo to his cheek, as he gently removed the crown from his helm.

“You have been deflowered.”

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬. Blitzwing giggled, throwing his arms around Bumblebee and cuddling into him like one would a teddy bear, tucking him into his body. He nuzzled their faces together, close enough for Bee to put up a servo. 

“Watch your crazy-sharp teeth, Blitzy.” He tapped a digit against the razor-like mouth, subtly nudging it away a smidge. Blitzwing’s servos wrapped around Bee’s thighs in response.

“You finally got zhem done!” He scraped sharp digits against the bands of gleaming black paint encircling yellow thighs. “Very sexy, I love zhe whole look you have going on right now.”

“Yeah, I know. Hot, right?” Bumblebee lifted a leg into the air, letting the faint dusk light catch on his sweet new paint job. “Gotta keep my mech’s optics on me when we’re on the field.”

Blitzwing laughed. “Hoo-boy, do I have some news for you, cutie-bug!” He made an odd groaning sound, before his head whipped back towards Icy.

“Yes, so, ve may need to up zhe theatrics next time ve face up, or else Megatron may end up ripping your spark out and eat it in front of me.” Blitzwing sighed, burying his helm in closer to Bumblebee’s, olfactory bridge resting against the back of his helm. “He’s so dramatic, I svear.”

Bumblebee sat up. “Whoa, wait, what? What did he say?” Bee’s optics narrowed. “Is he jealous?”

"No, nothing like zhat.” Blitzwing pushed Bumblebee back down into the pillows. “He’s finally caught on to zhe fact I’m sneaking out at night to meet you. I mean, he doesn’t know it’s you, specifically, but he’s sure it’s an Autobot. I zhink ve just need to be a little more careful for zhe time being.”

“Sure, yeah,” Bee wriggled a little deeper into the cuddle puddle. “I’ll kick your aft on the field, no prob.” He patted Blitzwing’s cheek. “So, how’s Professor Sumdac doing?”

Blitzwing rolled his optic. “Ve don’t talk about vork, remember? Both of us are terrible at keeping secrets, and zhis is already risky enough.” He sat up, suddenly looming over Bumblebee as his servos landed on either side of his helm.

“Now how about you show me vhat you’ve gotten done vith zhat engine block I gave you, love-bug?”

Bumblebee’s engine let out a purr. He smiled, optics hooding with lust. “I’d be happy to, Blitzy. Why don’t you try opening me up for yourself that tongue of yours?” Bee accented his point with his servos framing his pelvic plate. Blitzwing glanced down, knowing exactly what Bumblebee was getting at. He arched his back, sitting up on his knee joints now.

“Do! The! Thing! Do! The! Thing!” Bee clapped to the tune of his demands. “Do it do it do it do it!”

Blitzwing sighed, letting his head spin over to his wildest side, which appeared with a screech.

“I heard somevone vas being a little snack! And you know vhat happens to snacks!” Blitzwing giggled, his insanely long tongue snaking out from between jack-o-lantern teeth. “Zhey get EATEN!”

“Yeaaaaaaaah!” Bumblebee threw his servos in the air, ready to get the party started.

The thing about Blitzwing was that he didn’t actually have three heads crammed into his helmet- there simply wasn’t enough room. Instead, he had multiple faces, while all the interior parts and systems remained the same. Bumblebee himself had poked his head in Random’s mouth, finding the tooth gap-laden dental plates hidden behind the razor-sharp smile. It also meant that Blitzwing’s tongue was a terrifyingly prehensile two and a half feet long, regardless of how he was feeling. He only used it to its full potential when he was feeling silly enough to switch over to Random, where he didn’t have to worry about a normal facial structure getting in the way. Blitzwing had only had to show Bee what happened when he stuck it out as Icy. It was… disturbing, to say the least.

But Random was more than perfect for the job of eating valve in the way Bee was wanting right now. Swooping down like a predator on prey, Blitzwing dove into Bumblebee’s crotch, jagged teeth scraping against his codpiece.

“Knock- knock, special delivery!”

The protective cover slid over with a snap, and Blitzwing got to work. His tongue snaked out and looped around Bee’s anterior node, wrapping it and beginning to more or less jerk the little nub off. Blitzwing could do a lot more than just tie a cherry stem into a knot. Bumblebee gasped, a servo flying to his mouth.

“Primus, how do you do that?”

Blitzwing chuckled to himself; this little bot hadn’t seen anything yet. With the tip busy with his node, he began to stuff the rest of his tongue into Bee’s valve, folding it in half to do so. He went slowly, going inch by inch, both to get Bumblebee used to the feeling, and also so he could savor the flavor of his wet-and-ready botfriend. Once he filled his valve nice and tight, he started thrusting, not bothering with being slow anymore. He was maybe just a tad eager to get to the main event of the evening. Bee rolled his hips, loving everything Blitzwing was giving him.

“Aw yeah,” Bee moaned, a digit bit between his dental plates. “Use your tongue like a can-opener and open me up, big bot!” Bumblebee had such a way with words. Blitzwing complied, grabbing him by the hips and lifting him halfway in the air to eat him like a slice of watermelon. The Decepticon’s tongue plunged deep, pumping into Bumblebee faster and faster, hitting sensor arrays Bee didn’t even know he had. As Blitzwing plunged deeper and deeper, he began to unfold his tongue, stretching the valve bit by bit and adding a growing pressure to the walls. As he worked Bumblebee into putty, Blitzwing put all of his hyperactive energy into humming show tunes, the vibrations only making Bee hurtle towards overload even faster. Luckily, Bee had never seen 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤, so it didn’t really distract from the moment.

Feeling the beginning of what was sure to be a very awesome overload, Bumblebee’s servos clawed at the fluffy pillows behind his helm, not being able to reach Blitzwing’s helm without risking dropping himself. He was hot all over, ready to pop.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay, Blitzy-” His neck tensed, stiff from holding a good portion of his weight, helm rocking side to side. It was just so much. “Oh slag Primus I- ffffffffffrag…” It was right there. He was so slagging full, and this was just the first course. It was so, so good to be a traitor to the cause in this moment; he didn’t care if Ultra Magnus himself somehow magically transported into the room.

Blitzwing stretched his tongue out again, flicking against Bee’s node, hard. In that instant, Bumblebee was suddenly transported into outer fucking space, as he came so hard we saw stars. His whole lower body quivered, his legs spasming almost as hard as his valve. The pillowcases in his grasp tore in the iron grip of his servos.

Bumblebee gasped, the high only being encouraged and prolonged by Blitzwing continuing to pump rapidly into him, the tip of his tongue tickling his anterior node until he almost had to beg him to stop. Blitzwing pulled out once Bee was sure he was done cumming. He slipped his tongue back into his mouth, licking his lips as he dropped Bumblebee’s aft back onto the cushions. Bee twitched, still hazy and warm.

“Gimme… gimme a klik.” He sighed, flattening into the pillows as though he were melting. “That was intense.” Blitzwing nodded, having slipped out of being Random and back into the dominant personality. The next bit would take some finesse.

Blitzwing shifted on his knees. “Are you sure you’re still up to it?” He asked. “It’s alright if you aren’t, zhere’s plenty of other nights ve could try plugging.”

Bumblebee waved his concern away, already rolling over onto his side. “Nah, I’m cool. I want you to get a real feel for this bomb valve of mine.” He reached his servos down, letting them slide down his chest plate. “Check it, nerd.”

Bee held his valve open with both servos, letting Blitzwing peer inside. It was certainly a stretch; Blitzwing swore he could see the end of the port if he squinted hard enough.

“Vow,” Blitzwing looked back up at him. “Very nice vork. Ve might just be able to do zhis after all.” He popped his codpiece, letting his equipment spring free.

“Well, I sure hope so!” Bumblebee rolled onto his servos and knee joints. “I didn’t spend the last week shoving a truck engine inside myself to not get fragged, Blitz.”

Blitzwing crawled the small distance to Bee, letting his spike lead the way. His spike tapped against the top of Bee’s aft, making him jump a little. With a guiding servo, Blitzwing dragged it down to brush against the wet and sloppy valve before him.

Bumblebee looked back at him over his shoulder. “Ich bin bereit für dich, Liebes.” 

Blitzwing froze, staring at Bumblebee. “…Did I say it right?”

“I have no idea. Vhat even vas zhat?”

Bumblebee stammered. “It’s German! You know, German? Like you?”

“I have no idea vhat a German even is.”

“But you have the accent!”

“Is zhat vhat zhat is?” Blitzwing touched a digit to his lips in thought. 

“You don’t know what kind of accent you have?!” Bee yelled.

Blitzwing shrugged. “I just assumed it vas some sort of speech impediment caused by zhe experiments.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Bumblebee, I am a Cybertronian Decepticon, having lived all my life either on-planet or in the vastness of space with others of our race. Vhy in the name of Primus vould I have an accent from Earth?”

Bumblebee threw up his servos, rolling his optics so hard it almost hurt. “Look, I dunno, okay? Clearly all my time spent collecting research on Google Translate was wasted. Just frag me already, you big baby.” He wiggled his hips for emphasis, slicking up the spike that was frustratingly still not inside him in the slightest.

“You’re a baby,” Blitzwing grumbled as he lined himself up again. His tip poked into the lips ever so slightly. It was do or die time. “Okay, here-” He added the slightest amount of pressure.

“Ve-” He leaned over Bee’s back, placing servos on either side of him again. He planted a kiss to the back of his helm. The tip breached, Bumblebee’s engine revving in anticipation.

If Blitzwing was being honest with himself, this probably wasn’t the ideal position to be doing this in. However, Bee had wanted it like this, and he figured he could let the little bot pick how he got fragged, given all the work he’d put in to make this happen.

“Go!”

He pushed his hips forward, breathing slow and deep. He couldn’t lose his head right now. His spike spread Bumblebee’s lips, both upper and lower, as Bee groaned at the feeling. Things were going a bit smoother than he anticipated, thanks to Bee being very-well lubricated from his tongue-fucking, until about halfway in. Bumblebee hissed, making Blitzwing still.

“Are you alright?” He asked, clicking a bit. He wouldn’t lie, this was already feeling really slagging fantastic for him. Bee’s valve hugged him a couple times as Bee himself shifted, trying to get comfortable. 

Bee huffed. “Might need a little help,” he tapped on his shoulder, leaning his neck away from his servo. Blitzwing got the idea. Pressing his faceplate to the requested area, he let himself be taken by his desire and switch. Growling with lust, he bit down on Bumblebee’s shoulder, feeling metal crunch and fold into the space in his dental plating, tasting energon.

Bumblebee keened, valve instantly loosening around Blitzwing as it gushed lube, letting him slide the rest of the way in.

“It’s in! Ha!” Bumblebee wheezed, feeling like Blitzwing’s spike was all the way up behind his steering wheel. Hoo boy, was he stuffed. “And you were worried!” 

“I’m not vorried.” Blitzwing growled.

Bumblebee blinked, then remembered something rather important. He balled his servos into the pillows, bracing himself for the storm to come.

“I hope you’re ready to get RAMMED LITTLE BUG.”

Blitzwing pulled out most of the way, before slamming back into Bee. He set a brutal pace, hard as a tank and fast as a jet. Bumblebee shouted, feeling every single sensor array in his valve light up like the city skyline. This was rough, very rough. Just what he was looking for.

“Ah yeah, Blitz, give it to me! I want you all up in my business!” Egging him on, Bee could feel Blitzwing’s arms snaking around his chest plate to hold him tight. He was being lifted, seated in Blitzwing’s lap now. Blitzwing pumped him up and down on his spike, the thick shaft now going deep enough to bump against the back of his valve. Bee was essentially a cocksleeve in this moment, and he was literally drooling over it. He reached down to play with his node, stretched so tight he could barely get to it.

The room was full of sound, both bots panting and groaning and occasionally screaming, fully engrossed in their interface. Bodies clanged together, engines roaring with vigor. If they had been near a residential area, the warehouse would have absolutely gotten a noise complaint and a visit from the cops. Bumblebee’s digits rubbed frantic little circles over his node, valve pulsing around the spike inside. He came quickly, the sheer amount of stimuli sending him into overload with lightning speed.

“Fucking FRACK!” His valve tightened, conforming to Blitzwing’s spike like a second skin. He shook, moaning loudly through the ordeal, unable to breathe. His servos flailed, both looking for purchase and fanning himself in equal measures. “Blitz, I- ah!” Bumblebee was almost panicking, trying his damnedest to speak through his overload. “Primus, Blitz, cum inside me!”

Blitzwing thought he could manage that.

He pumped into Bee violently, spilling transfluid into him to the point of overflow. It slipped down Bee’s pelvic plating, dripping onto the pillows under their legs. 

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.

Blitzwing gingerly lifted Bumblebee by the armpits off of his lap. Bee shivered as his felt the softening spike drag out of him, sending aftershocks of pleasure through him as it left. Bee popped off, a wad of transfluid slipping out of him and splatting onto the cushions. 

“Gross.”

Limp as a ragdoll, Bumblebee let himself be laid onto Blitzwing’s chest plating. They both laid down, spent. Blitzwing pet Bumblebee’s helm, wiping away condensation. Bee sighed contentedly.

“So, that movie you wanted to see is playing at the drive-in on Saturday. You wanna go?” Blitzwing huffed. No moment of silence ever lasted long with Bee. 

“Sure. It’s a date, bug.”

In the early hours of the morning, Bumblebee zipped in through the door, finding his friends deep in recharge on the couch, the television throwing flickering light across their sleeping bodies. He found a spot next to Sari, curled up like a kitten against Prowl’s side. Quiet for once in his existence, he sat down, leaning his helm against the back of the couch. Shuttering his optics, he smiled softly as he settled into the cushions, servos knitting together in his lap.

“Bumblebee,” Prowl whispered, aware of his presence. “What horrors have you committed on this night?”

“I got laid, glitch-head.” Bee’s optics remained shut. “It was good, you ought to try it sometime.”

“I hope his stupid giant spike cracks you in half, idiot.” Prowl sunk back into recharge. “Goodnight, Bumblebee,” he yawned.

“Night, Prowl.”


End file.
